


wrong turn

by seothsayers



Series: turn off the light [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seothsayers/pseuds/seothsayers
Summary: Kiss your life goodbye.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: turn off the light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947721
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	wrong turn

**Author's Note:**

> the first of a set of halloween drabbles inspired by kim petras' iconic 'turn off the lights' album. give it a listen if you haven't! this is inspired by [wrong turn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lufe_OjG4OU&ab_channel=KimPetras).

The forest grows thicker with every step Mark takes. He refuses to admit he is lost at first, too proud and too frustrated. He wanders for what seems like days but the path is still nowhere in sight. It’s only when the night sky begins to grow dark and a creeping chill settles deep in his bones that he closes his eyes and prays. 

_ Guide me to safety _ , he asks.  _ Show me somewhere I can rest for the night _ .

He walks for a little longer before he stumbles across the temple. Tall and made of dark grey stone, it stands alone in the centre of a clearing. Mark rushes forward, pushing through the tangled branches and cutting away at the thorns that seem to curl around his ankles with his blade. 

When he finally steps into the clearing, the doors to the temple creak open. It’s unsettling, but Mark trusts in the Gods and so he walks towards the open doors. 

The temple is lit warmly inside. White candles hang in sconces along the walls. Directly in front of him there is a stained glass window, depicting a lone knight on one knee, holding his hands up to the moon as it shines down on him. There is no-one around, but Mark figures that whoever cares for the temple cannot be far.

Mark takes a seat in one of the pews and closes his eyes. 

“Are you lost, traveller?”

The voice makes him jump and his eyes fly open. Stood at the altar at the front of the room is a lithe man, dressed in a simple black tunic and trousers. He is barefoot, Mark notes, and the sleeves of his shirt hang down over his hands. 

“Not anymore.” Mark answers. “Is it alright for me to stay the night here?”

The man nods. “All I ask is that you pay your respects,” He says.

“I can do that.” Mark closes his eyes again and presses his hands together. 

When Mark is finished with his prayer, he opens his eyes to find the man gone. He stands, setting his sword down on the bench and steps towards the altar. 

In his periphery, Mark sees the man step out of the shadows and back into the room. He is holding a silver tray in his hands and he walks over to Mark with a smile. 

Up close, his face is mesmerising. His dark hair falls over his eyes, slightly shielding the intensity of his gaze. His skin is smooth and unblemished, the outline of his nose soft and his lips pink and plush. 

He holds out the tray for Mark to take. “I figured you might be hungry.” He says. “It’s not much –”

Mark blinks. “I’ll take whatever you can spare.” He accepts the tray with a smile. “Can I ask your name?”

The man pauses for a split-second before he answers. “John.” He sits down and gestures to the space beside him. “Won’t you take a seat?”

Mark sits. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, John. I’m Mark.”

“Mark.” John repeats. “What are you doing this far away from the city, Mark?”

“I’m a knight.” Mark explains. “Or, at least, I will be soon. They had me out on patrol in the woods. There’s been talk among the city folk about people going missing and others turning up at the gates not knowing who they are.”

“They sent you out here all alone?” John asks, a frown on his face.

“There were a few others but we decided to split up.” Mark says. “It’s faster than all four of us travelling together.”

“I see.” John pushes the bread from the tray into Mark’s hands. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

Mark obliges – he hadn’t realised just how hungry he was until the food touched his tongue. Suddenly, he is ravenous. He scarfs down the bread, tearing it into pieces with his hands, the crumbs spraying everywhere. John has brought him fresh fruit too – red and purple berries that are bursting with flavour. 

Mark moans in satisfaction. John watches him with a look of quiet gratification. 

“Good?” John asks. 

“Perfect.” Mark answers, and John’s smile grows wider.

“I’m glad to hear it.” John places a hand on Mark’s thigh. They are large – John has a single ornate ring decorating every other finger. Mark can feel the heat from his palm radiating through the thin fabric of his breeches. “Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?”

“You’ve done more than enough already.” Mark tells him.

John hums. He removes his hand from Mark’s thigh and the heat lingers for a moment before it vanishes. John stands, taking the empty tray from Mark’s hands. “Let me get you something to drink.”

Whilst he is gone, Mark walks to the altar and stares up at the stained glass window. He can’t place what it is that interests him about it, but he finds he can’t turn away.

“Here.”

John appears out of nowhere again, holding out a silver goblet for Mark to take. Inside the liquid is a deep red and a sip tells him it’s wine.

“You seem to have taken an interest in our lonely knight,” John says, looking up at the window. 

“Is there a story behind it?” Mark asks. He takes another sip of the wine and frowns. “Which god does this temple honour?”

“The tale of the knight is one as old as time.” John says. “He prays to the moon to set him on the right path, to save him from temptation and for forgiveness for his sins. In return, she sends him out of the woods and into the arms of her champion. Together they carry out a sacrifice in her name, to revitalise her power so she can continue helping all those other lost souls who need help finding their way.”

“I haven’t heard that one before.” Mark murmurs. He finishes the wine and offers the empty goblet back to John. “Still, I am happy to pray to the goddess. Sleeping out in the woods alone would have been costly.”

John tosses the goblet to the side and it clatters off the stone floor, making Mark wince. He places his hands on Mark’s shoulders and turns Mark towards him, using a hand to lift Mark’s chin. The weight of John’s gaze on his face burns, and Mark finds his eyes fluttering shut to avoid their intensity. 

“It is an honour to have someone so noble in the presence of our goddess tonight.” John says. “Will you pray with me, Mark?”

“Of course.” 

With his eyes closed, Mark doesn’t see the way John moves forward. The pressure of John’s lips on his own is a surprise, but Mark relaxes into the kiss. John runs a thumb along Mark’s cheekbone like he is mapping Mark’s skin and he kisses Mark hard. When John pulls away, Mark is panting. John presses their foreheads together and Mark can feel the harsh exhale of John’s breath on his upper lip.

“Thank you, Mark.” John says. 

John gestures towards the altar and so Mark drops to his knees, pressing his hands together and closing his eyes once again.

“The goddess will be most pleased with your addition to the sacrifice,” John’s voice seems to echo from every corner of the room. It sends a shiver down Mark’s spine.

The pain is sharp and quick. Mark’s hand flies to his neck, but the deed is done. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes for the final time is the look of sorrow on the face of the knight in the stained glass window. Then, there is nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/seothsayers)


End file.
